Christmas Conspiracy. Robin Perini
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“No!” She’d fought too hard to take control of her life—for her and her children. She raced across the suite, yanked the door open and bolted down the hall.
“Kat!” Logan bolted after her, jamming the door to the suite. A spew of curses rose as Sergei and his men slammed against the wood. She didn’t know how long it would hold.
Kat threw open the door to the stairwell. She had to get away. She’d go home, grab the twins and disappear. Someway, somehow. She’d never let her children around the man who claimed to be her father.
Heavy footsteps pounded after her, getting closer and closer. Within two flights Logan caught her by the arm and pulled her against him.
She shoved at his chest. “Let me go.”
He pressed her to the wall. “Calm down. I just want to talk for one second. We need a quick plan.”
She stilled. “We?”
“Yeah,” he said, touching her cheek. “We.”
“I’m not going with the king.”
“We’ll work something out, but you need to listen to me.”
She gritted her teeth. “Why should I trust you? You drugged me.”
“I didn’t know about your children. If I had, I would have done things differently. I would have taken you to get them first.” Logan dropped his forehead against hers. “Please, Kat. I won’t let anything happen to you or them. I promise.”
She took a deep breath. “You’ll get me out of here?”
Logan lifted his head and met her gaze. “I’ll find a safe place for you and your kids.”
The truth of his words hung in the air between them.
She finally nodded. She needed help.
He kept his Glock ready. “Let’s go. We have to keep moving.”
They raced down the stairs. “If the king finds us, you won’t just hand over my kids?”
Logan stiffened beside her. “How could you ask me that?”
“I knew you for one week three years ago and you said you were a rancher, but you work for a king now.”
“I am a rancher. One who’s done some jobs for King Leopold over the years,” Logan conceded. At the next level, he checked the small window to the hallway, before moving on. “I own a private investigation and security firm.”
Kat’s breaths came harder, but a flicker of hope glimmered. “Can you take us where I don’t have to worry about him coming after us?” She grabbed his wool sweater. “I won’t take any chances. Not with my children.”
“I understand needing to protect your family, Kat.” He helped her round the next level. “We’ll have to make preparations. How old are your kids?”
Kat hesitated. She’d never thought to face this moment. Not after he’d had his ranch hands turn her away. “They’re two and a half,” she whispered softly, not wanting to meet his gaze, but knowing she had no choice.
Comprehension flashed across his face, and he tightened his grip on her arm. “They’re mine?”
“I tried to tell—”
Above them, a door slammed open, and he cursed. “Save it. We need to get you out of here.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs before she could argue. She’d tried to tell him when she’d found out. He was the one who hadn’t wanted her.
When they reached the second to the last landing, a masked figure, pistol in hand, rammed through the door beside them. He aimed directly at Kat.
Logan tackled her and twisted his body to shield her. Both men’s guns went off.
Logan sucked in a sharp breath. “Stay back,” he snapped.
Faster than she could comprehend, he twisted his legs into a scissor lock around the assailant’s knees and ankles and tripped him. The man tumbled down the stairs and slammed into the wall headfirst. Logan raced to follow, then stopped.
“Damn,” he muttered.
The attacker stared sightlessly back, his neck at an unnatural angle.
Logan bent down and removed the balaclava that masked the man’s features, then swore. “This is one of Leopold’s guards. I warned him he’d been infiltrated. If you’d gone with the king …”
“What if he’d gotten near the children?” She couldn’t stop her voice from shaking.
Logan grabbed Kat’s hand and pulled her to him. Kat huddled against Logan’s chest, unable to stop trembling. Please let this be a nightmare. Please let me wake up. Please let my babies be all right.
Logan looked as if he wanted to say something, but he sighed and tapped his phone.
“Meet me at the back entrance. We’re going to Plan B.” A Russian curse sounded above them. “Sergei.”
They hurried out the stairwell and around the corner.
“I’m late,” Kat said. “I need to call my kids.”
“You mean our kids?”
Kat nodded, a feeling of dread spreading inside her. “Yes. Our kids.”
“You have one minute.” He slipped a small metal tool into a locked maintenance closet door, closed them in and handed the phone over. She fumbled so many times he finally took the cell back.
“What’s the number?”
Kat told him, then waited as he held the phone to his ear for a long time.
He hit a button and waited again.
“What’s going on?”
Logan frowned. “It just keeps ringing. Do you have an answering machine?”
Her heart stopped. “Yes, but Paulina should have picked up by now. She’s the babysitter and she wasn’t planning on taking the kids out today.”
“Well, the machine didn’t answer and neither did anyone else.”
THE THRONE ROOM WAS EMPTY.
It wouldn’t be for long.
The double doors whispered open and cautious footsteps crossed the marble floors toward the spot where the duke stood admiring the way the gold-plated walls glistened.
He ignored the simpering fool behind him and continued